


Brief Summaries of Various Events (Yet to take place)

by expatiatingAutophobic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Human AU, M/M, Multi, One-Shot, One-Shot Collection, Other, basically i just stuff the plots im considering to use in here, thats all this is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expatiatingAutophobic/pseuds/expatiatingAutophobic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, I take out the plot ideas I have and stuff them in here. You can then suggest new ideas or encourage ones already posted in here, and chances are the most popular one-shots here will be turned into full multi-chap fics off their own.</p>
<p>FIRST CH. SUMMARY:<br/>"You'd like to think you're a fairly sane person. Of course you'd be sane- Striders don't come broken, they come in special material, sharper than the shitty katanas on your wall and sturdier than a motherfuckin’ cliff. Nobody could tear you apart, obviously. That just doesn’t happen to you guys. At least, that’s what you like to think. But maybe it’s true. Maybe. Probably. Yeah, definitely. However, that did not stop you from being a little unnerved by seemingly sentient gusts of fucking wind coming to your aid in convenient times, nor did you expect a dork with the name "Egbert" to flip your life around."</p>
<p>I'll include more tags once I progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brief Summaries of Various Events (Yet to take place)

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I'm writing fanfiction. Of all things in the world. Jesus christ.
> 
> Anywho, I will be starting off with a collection of one-shots to expand my writing skills (for future plans, hinthint). If there's a particular one-shot you like, feel free to point it out and I might make it into a fully-fledged multi-chapter fic. That's pretty much the only purpose this series has, other than serving as a bit of a time killer and a way to make my writing just a tad more attractive.  
> I felt like choosing one of the more popular pairings would be more beneficial, so.. Yeah. Not all of these will be all fluff and shit though, 90% of the time it'll hopefully be more plot than fluff (usually I don’t like writing fluff anyway- but oh well, it is necessary every now and then, I guess, yuck) – not to say there inevitably won't be any pairings for the sake of pleasing the audience somewhat (like in this kick-starter chapter). I highly encourage you to leave ideas for AUs, pairings, etc, seeing as it'd make running this series much easier, and I’d also recommend that you point out what chapters you like the best along with the reason why you love them, and I’ll most likely turn it into a full-fledged series (or, you know, put it on the list.) –Do not, and I repeat, do not ever think it’s a bother- if it was, I wouldn’t ask. And besides, being one who has too much time on my hands, I really don’t have many better things to do than work on my writing, and I might as well aim for pleasing the general audience while I’m doing it. So, go ahead and don’t be shy.  
> Welp, here goes nothing. Enjoy.

You'd like to think you're a fairly sane person. Of course you'd be sane- Striders don't come broken, they come in special material, sharper than the shitty katanas on your wall and sturdier than a motherfuckin’ cliff. Nobody could tear you apart, obviously. That just doesn’t happen to you guys. At least, that’s what you like to think. But maybe it’s true. Maybe. Probably. Yeah, definitely. Despite what any wordy blonde says to pick apart your psyche like some deprived demon living off of people's inner secrets, you'd consider yourself pretty withstanding. Lalonde can turn off the psychoanalysis yap- there's nothing wrong with you. At least, you don’t see any reason as to why there would be in the first place. Maybe Lalonde could somehow see it, but you didn’t listen nor buy that psychoanalysis bullcrap anyway.  
Yeah. That's how it is. You're certain of it.

Despite how, quite contrastingly to your previous statement, you've started to notice something odd in the air. Literally in the air- despite how that sounds, like something out of a dumb novel a teacher would give to fourth graders. Something that may have made you reconsider previous statement once. Just once. Just a little bit. Nothing to completely rattle you, of course. Maybe.

At first it was a slight gust of wind that pushed you back from imminent danger on the road you were about to cross as a car horn fired past you with angry slurs flowing by in a shout of distress and anger. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a coincidence. You paid it no mind, other than the short train of thought chooing “holy shit I almost died there” as would be perfectly reasonable in such a situation, and totally no proof whatsoever that it affected you beyond that, especially not your psyche or some weird spirit of the wind or some bullshit like that. No way. You just carried on. Just like that. Boom, no damage done.  
The second time it happened, you were walking in a park (what, a guy gets bored, and the park is kickass) as you texted your pal as she rambled on about “justice” and whatnot against her weird-ass scaledates or whatever she called them, as per usual, most of which you didn't really read properly. At one point during her ramble about her stuffed suspects or whatever the heck, you were leaning across the railing on a bridge as you and Terezi bickered as usual, until your dumb ass decided to slip and nearly fall backwards into the lake (great job, real smooth there, Dave), until once again, a familiar gust of wind pushed you back on your feet. Although, you're not quite sure how a projectile of air can feel “familiar,” It was almost an automatic word in your train of thought, but whatever, you let your brain roll with it. It's cool. Just a slip-up. You and your brain are on cool terms. Surely it wasn’t proof of anything, definitely not you flipping your shit over having wind push you around and saving your life at random points of your life.  
Of course, there were more moments inbetween- mostly minor ones you hadn’t really thought of at first- dumb stuff like sale coupons landing at your feet or your hair blowing in just the right direction (which you appreciated, as it would add to your already staggering amounts of swagger as you trot down the street). It eventually started happening in school too, however. During P.E it would seem like the wind would aid you at just the right times, whether that was during times you were forced into running against your classmates or simply kicking a ball in some god-forsaken sport you really don't care to remember the name of. It suddenly stroke you as odd though, when these seemingly random winds came during still weather in May.

You brought it up with your dearest cousin of wordy explanations and multiple verbal leaks of sarcasm over one of your weekly calls one day. Why or how on earth you made such a mistake, you can't really remember. All you know is- never bring up thoughts for Rose to have a field day with. You don't remember much of your rambling, only the “Rose, I'm not crazy I swear, you'd be a little freaked too” and “I swear it's so weird Rose, it's always the same pace too, I'm sure of it. And like- it’s so weirdly specific and sometimes it smells nice- Rose, don’t look at me like that” and your all-time favorite- “Rose, stop snickering, hear me out on this, alright-”. She eventually concluded a list of possible psychological nonsense that could be harassing your psyche, which you really didn't care much for memorizing. Screw that. You didn’t need her yappering. You were just fine on your own.

 

However, you were convinced something fishy was going on when you found the same goddamn gusts of wind in _your own apartment._ You were pretty damn sure you weren't crazy enough to feel yourself getting boosted by a god-damn blast of wind at convenient times, and you were fairly certain magic didn't exist either. So really, you were out of luck and left feeling like your sanity was drippling into a puddle. It couldn't be your Bro- you were pretty certain that he wasn't creepy enough to follow you around, and even if he was, he never mixes up his list of aloof asshole tricks. Not only that, you were also pretty damn certain he wouldn’t bother to flash-step during the Texan summers. Lazy asshole.  
You concluded it was best to pay it no mind (because seriously Dave, sentient wind, what the fuck), until one day you were alone in your apartment and a gust of wind gave you just enough of a push to make you nearly trip over some wires which would’ve been absolutely impossible with closed windows and hellish summer heat. You then concluded that maybe it was a little more difficult than expected to ignore these winds. Whatever was up with those winds, they were assholes. Assholes with lame pranks. If they even consisted of multiple people. Or maybe it was just one asshole, taking his boredom out on poor old you.

 

You ponder your thoughts for a second and deem it best not to tell anyone. Ever. Lalonde would have a field day with your statement of a fucking wind pranking you. Besides, that would be absurd. You're fairly certain it's impossible. Magic didn’t exist, and neither did sentient wind. Magic was about as real as the chances of you going nuts.

 

You decided to ignore it and went about your business as usual, mixing up ill beats no mortal soul could handle, updating your blog, dodging smuppet traps, and so on. Things were fairly normal, nothing out of the ordinary, other than your frail attempts to somehow summon that gust of wind again to convince yourself you weren't crazy and said wind was in fact either saving your ass or making you out to be one. Sadly, your attempts were futile. (You totally did not call out to it though at one point. That would be absurd. You wouldn’t do that. Maybe. Or, well, definitely, rather. Whatever.)  
That is, until you could've sworn the wind that flew past you had a whisper to it. Incomprehensible, yes, but a whisper nonetheless. You were pretty damn certain of it and nothing could convince you otherwise.

Now, any normal person would've flown off the handle completely and flipped their shit up to the moon, but you didn't do that. Nah. You totally kept cool. Cool as ice. Shit be freezing up over your chill. Cool guys like you don't freak. Not at all. Not in the slightest. You didn’t even flinch. Nothing gets past your shell of cool, even if it’s a goddamn _whisper in an empty apartment, holy shit-_

Right. You were chill. So chill, nobody would even know. Naturally.  
However, you couldn't deny that maybe, just maybe it was a little unnerving when those whispery winds started occuring more often as time went by. At first, they were the rare little warnings to watch out, until they got more frequent and snarkier. Heck, you were willing to bet most of them were just smartassy remarks from what you could make out over the wind brushing against your ears.

 

Now, you'd still consider yourself a sane person. A sane person that's started to hear voices, perhaps, but sane nonetheless, as part of you were convinced that voice was real somehow. You were certain of it. How you knew it was real, you had no clue. You couldn't exactly verify it was living, either. All you literally knew is that it was some asshole of a wind. And it was real. More real than those ill beats you’re throwing in the air, which, for those deprived of your beats, was real as shit. Or, real as a motherfucker, as a certain acquaintance liked to call it.

However, you started to notice things, such as your friends being helped out by the wind seemingly randomly too.

Okay, that, admittedly, sounded pretty out of this world. Whatever. Rolling with it.

Your carelessly blind friend, Terezi, would get pushed seemingly by nothing out of something's way, and you could've sworn the same happened to Karkat, Jade, and Rose too. You’re almost certain of it. Maybe they didn’t notice. Maybe you were just getting a tad paranoid over fucking _wind_ of all things in the world, so you ignored it for the most part. Even in still weather.

 

However, you were still a little unnerved, and in some fit of frustration one day, you opened up the good old bottle of superstitions and started mumbling out aloud in your empty apartment:  
“I swear if you just move me a little bit I will fly off the fuckin’ handle, windy asshole. I mean goddamn you’re going to sweep me right off my fucking feet one day and I’ll be stuck there looking at some goddamn wind flowing around in a mini-tornado taunting me or some shit.”  
You’d facepalm and shake your head over mumbling to yourself, because _come on dave it’s just fucking wind, it’s not sentient you moron_ if it wasn’t for the fact that you heard a quiet, short, snorty giggle and a quiet little “oh, shit” following afterwards  and whipped your head towards the direction of the sound only to find… Absolutely nothing. God damn it.

“Alright, windy douche, I already heard your giggles-snort over my incredible charm and humor. No hidin’ from officer Strider anymore; you’re under arrest for trespassing the line called personal space, with double penalty for the victim being a total, absolute celebrity around these parts- who would be, you guessed it, yours truly. No hiding from the great cop Strider, top-ranked in the search for all personal assaulters and bullshit winds pushing innocent bystanders around.“  
You almost could’ve sworn you heard fidgeting. You couldn’t be totally sure, though.

 

“It’s too late, Mr. Windbag, the ball has dropped on this case, no more hiding.”

 

You were met with silence. Well, shit.

 

“Would you come out? Or like… I don’t know, do the windy thing and prove I’m not losing my shit over here.”

 

Still, nothing.

 

“Well, fuck, I sure as shit hope nobody heard me then.”

  
\------------------------------------------------

 

The days carried on as the- fuck, you didn’t even have a word for it that didn’t make you sound crazy- sentient wind thing subsided for a short while. You almost felt disappointed, and were beginning to question your sanity just a bit. Maybe it was just in your head. Yeah. Probably. No way would wind even be controlled in the first place. That only happens in dumb fantasy novels. Yeah. There’s no such thing as magic. Maybe you were just a little out of it. But things were cooling off. Yeah, everything was back to normal. Totally.

This train of thought, however, was interrupted as you strolled down the familiar street leading to your apartment. It was brief, but you could’ve sworn you heard a whispery “you missed a turn.”

Well shit, consider the usually chill as fuck Dave Strider spooked. Just a little. You looked around to find that you really did walk a little ways by the street you usually turned at, surprisingly. You also happened to notice the streets were fairly empty. Odd.  
Shaking your head, you turned around and continued your usual route. You didn’t really have time nor energy to think much about the incident, so you decided it would be best to just ignore it and carry on. You didn’t really feel like pondering over windy assholes anyway- assuming it even was a living thing controlling the wind or if it was somehow sentient, or if it was somehow a mix. You weren’t quite sure which idea was more outlandish.

 

As you strolled into your apartment, you went with your usual routine- which consisted of smacking your coat lazily at the front entrance to fit in with the rest of the apartment’s aesthetic, grabbing the holy beverage humans accepted as a gift from gods, which you fondly referred to as AJ, and getting ready to throw some sick fires that would put the flames of hell to shame, naturally. Which they always did.

That is, until you heard some crashing breaking your ball of silence.

 

“Bro? You home from Jake’s already? Did you forget the handcuffs or something for your boyfriend? Sick, dude.”

 

You were met with silence. You carried on with your work, expecting some flash-stepping bullshit to come around. You were only slightly unnerved when the silence carried on, and you decided to get up and check around the house _(just in case)_ only to notice that your bro’s keys were still missing, signalling your bro was still out and about doing whatever the fuck with his boy toy.  
You shook your head and decided it was in your head, and definitely not that douche wind. Nope. Impossible. Get it together, Strider.

 

Shortly after, you could’ve sworn there was another crashing sound, although it was more brief and was followed by a “thud.”  
With curiosity getting the better of you, you went out in a totally, absolutely calm non-hurrying matter to find out what shit went down.

What you did not expect, however, was some kid crashed outside in what you were pretty sure you could safely call an absolutely unconscious state.

 

Well, fuck.

 

Alright, you definitely didn’t freak out a little for a while. Totally not. Instead, you heaved the kid on your back and carried him inside (because honestly, leaving him out in the hallway would just make everything seem suspicious, and god knows what Bro would say if he found some kid your age passed out in the hallway to your apartment).

You dropped the kid on your bed, pondering your options.

You’d obviously wait for the kid to wake up, but then… What? For all you know, this kid could’ve been beaten up, drugged, or the like. He could also potentially be a stalker of one of your bro’s many sites. The options were limitless. The thing that struck you, however, was that some of the options would consist of nursing the kid back to health (because seriously, you couldn’t just kick some drugged up kid out onto the streets), and then there was also the chance that he would probably not wake up before your Bro gets home, in which case you’d have to explain why there’s a passed out kid in your room. How the fuck you were going to explain that, you had no idea. You just prayed for once that Dirk would stay the night at Jake’s this one time.

 

Right, you could also just tell him the truth, but honestly, “some kid passed out outside all of a sudden, so I dragged him in” didn’t sound convincing. Maybe you could just say it was someone from school that you hung out with. Yeah. That’d work. Then there was the part of him being passed out that you couldn’t explain. Maybe he was just tired. Yeah. You could make up some sob story. Then there was the part of getting the kid to go along with it somehow. Shit.

Oh well, maybe you could also bullshit the kid’s memory problems or whatever, maybe say he’s a forgetful dork and play it off cool and cut off the inevitably confrontation early once it arrives. Right. Perfect. Somewhat.

Deciding there wasn’t much more you could do, you turned around and turned around and _tried_ to carry on with your business, but… Yeah, it wasn’t exactly all that peachy mixing beats and drawing shitty comics with a passed out stranger behind you.

So in the end, you decided not to turn your back on the body. Maybe that was the safest option too, seeing as you had no idea who you just dragged into your house and it just occurred to you that despite the kid’s incredibly dorky appearance, he could, for all you know, be a gang member or some shit. Or maybe even have slightly homicidal tendencies. You could probably go on forever on the list of possibilities.

 

After quite some time, you came to the conclusion that watching over a passed out dude was boring as fuck. You ended up spending some hours on your phone, occasionally tearing your eyes from the screen to glance up and make sure the kid didn’t wake up unexpectedly, and, well… Doing nothing. As it got darker, you were graced with the text “TT: I’ll be staying at Jake’s. Check the fridge” and decided it was somewhat safe for now and the kid _should_ wake up soon so you could clear the mess quickly before anything happened and _holy shit he just fucking stirred_ , alright, keep it cool- don’t turn away from the body and be prepared for anything. Right, calm down, deep breaths. Obviously, the chances of the kid murdering you right away were bottom-low. Just keep your cool, god damn it.

Eventually, the kid got up and groaned slightly, rubbing his forehead as he opened his eyes and goddamn you were pretty sure those kind of eyes weren’t human with the sheer amount of saturation, holy Christ they were blue as the goddamn sky, how the fuck was that even possible-

Right, focus, he’s looking at you, damn it.

As he seemingly became fully conscious, you could see him visibly tensing up like a deer in the headlights, like he was just caught committing a crime or some shit.

You were pretty sure that with an expression like that, you could easily cross out some of the worst possibilities. Maybe the eyes helped a little bit too. Just a tiny bit.

The whole scenario was awkward, to say the least, as the kid looked around uncomfortably and fidgeted with his until you eventually cut the silence short as you cleared your throat.

 

“Sup. Look who’s up from their nap.”

 

You were pretty much at this point thanking whatever higher powers that granted you the ability to roll that out as smoothly as it was.

The kid was visibly still a little unnerved, fidgeting a bit and looking away before speaking.

  
“Um, I- where am I, exactly?”

 

Alright, that voice sounded nothing like the windy whispers. Totally not. Nope. Your mind could stuff it and stop nagging you and reminding you of that bullcrap now of all times. Right, this kid was just some stranger. Righto.

 

“In the humble abode of the Striders. You pretty much crashed right in front of the door, so… Care to explain that? If you remember, I guess,”  


“Oh- I, uh, I don’t know how to explain, hahah, it’s kind of a long story, to be honest,”

 

You raised your brow slightly, a little bit peeved by this kid’s secrecy, because honestly, this was starting to creep you out a little.

 

“I’ve got all night. Spill the beans.”

 

“Well- um, long story short, I guess you could say I’m kind of lost, in some sense? Sorry, I really can’t give you the full story just yet!”

 

“It’s cool, don’t sweat it. Any idea why you passed out in an apartment complex though?”

 

“Um- well, I, uh, I don’t… Know? I can’t remember, really.”

 

You could’ve sworn the kid was lying, but seeing as he had no recognition of your last name earlier, he couldn’t be a stalker either. Maybe you were just a little too paranoid of this stranger. You decided the explanation was fitting for now.

 

“Huh, well, take your time then. Do you remember where you live? I could just drop ya’ off, unless you’re, like… Sleep-hungover? I don’t know man, how are you feeling, anyway? Can you even move?”

 

“Uh, it’s fine- and, no, I, don’t really remember?” You’d question the uncertainty in his voice, but whatever, you let it slide. “Um. I don’t know, I guess I’m fine?”

 

“Well, don’t sweat it. I guess you could stick around until you feel better? I mean, I don’t know what Bro would say, but whatever.”

 

“Really? Well- I don’t even know what to say, but thank you!”

 

“’S no big deal. So, uh… What’s your name?”

 

“John Egbert. Yours?”

 

“Dave Strider, the one and only, the coolest kid on the block.”

 

A familiar giggle-snort and a “Sure you are,”

 

If only you knew back then just how much this dork would change everything you knew in only a couple of months,

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh noes, it ended. So many questions. How dare I.
> 
> Basically, this is how all chapters will go. I’ll roll the plot out and leave it with questions that you’ll decide whether you want answered or not. If you liked this, you can let me know in the comments and maybe even throw in ideas regarding to either this story or a brand new one.  
> Not too sure how I feel about this one in particular- hopefully it doesn’t seem like I’m going for some cliché “I met the love of my life, I was so in daisuki with them uwu” bullcrap, lmao 
> 
> Also, seeing as I'm pretty much a noob at this ao3 stuff, there's probably bound to be some whacky formatting issues I'll have to work around. Whoops-


End file.
